Misery Guts
by paradoxal pervert
Summary: Intended to be a series of unrelated one shots while I get back into the groove of writing.   Liable to contain every atrocity known to man eventually so checking individual chapter warnings and descriptions is highly recommended.


**A/N:** Intended to be a series of unrelated oneshots while I get back into the groove of writing.

Knowing my patterns this will probably be liable to contain every atrocity known to man eventually so reading the individual chapter warnings and descriptions is highly recommended. Genre and character labels will be changed to reflect the most recently posted one shot.

I can't ask you to expect anything terribly quality since for the most part these are just experimental practice and I'm utterly shithouse at editing. Particularly because I'm between betas due to circumstances I don't want to discuss, all I can really do right now is try to fix errors ASAP after I spot them or have them pointed out.

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> Nasty Habits  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> one sided Even/Ienzo  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> mastubation, references to paedophilic urges**  
>Notes<strong>: same universe as Sick and Genius with a Headache as far as I know. May be dissected later for reuse if I ever actually finish fleshing out the full fic for that.

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><p>After spending too many nights in the lab instead of sleeping, Ansem had threatened to take away Even's access all together until he returned to healthy sleeping habits... or at least pretended to by actually going to his apartment at night. The safety implications of Even staying in the lab alone all night, coupled with sleep deprivation, were considerably less than desirable.<p>

As much as he hated it, he couldn't avoid _this_ forever any more than he could avoid sleep and the thoughts often became harder to control the longer he tried to suppress them. Giving into the urge like this was likely just reinforcing the desire, but it always seemed worse when not controlled like this.

Especially now that Ienzo was focusing his studies, spending more time alone with Even, where Even would be expected to mentor him, not... _well_, what some unreasonable and rather disturbing part of Even's brain would rather have him doing.

The close quarters made it more frustrating. The number of times Even caught himself wondering if it would be noticed if he were to reach out and touch the boy some way he could make seem like he'd just casually brushed up against Ienzo before rational thinking reigned him in caused such a distraction. And then there was that thing at night...

Even shook his head and pushed his mind back to the matter 'at hand' as it were; the more apparent source of his troubles tenting the surrounding fabric. He'd couldn't recall having needed nor having _wanted _to masturbate this much or often when he was in puberty (though considering how long ago that was he may have been romanticising the experience.)

His hand slipped under the waistband of his trousers, giving himself a gentle squeeze through the material of his underwear before pushing it out of the way. As his hand slid against warm flesh, his reflexively hips pressed up against the contact.

Even's hand curled in a loose fist around his erection, stroking in an attempt to match the rhythm with the dregs of the half-conscious fantasy he'd later pretend didn't exist, intent on getting the humiliating and sickening exercise over with as fast as possible.

The less time he had to spend thinking about it, the easier it was to pretend nothing happened and suppress the fixation. Becoming overly acquainted with his hand would be far easier –in both the short and long term- for all the guilt he felt over this he'd rather not consider if he were actually committing the act he was imagining.

Speeding the motion up, the rapid succession of strokes was briefly interrupted as he adjusted he position. Rolling on to his stomach, the motion of his hand exchanged for moving his hips. Thrusting into a slightly tighter fist slick with precome and sweat he tried to maintain that utterly depraved mental image that it was Ienzo under him. Squeezing just a little harder as his arousal peaked and-

- there was a knock on the door, chasing away the last of the remembered dream.

Even gave a small hiss, the interruption bringing what had almost been an orgasm to a rather uncomfortable halt. There was a very short list of potential intruders, only a few of which would be unimportant matters. Still, it was hardly like he could go to the door like this, having been so close it couldn't take more than a few strokes to finish this… And whatever impatient _bastard_ was harassing him knocked _again_, Even cursed and bit his lip. This arousal was getting frustrating, coupled with the self-consciousness that someone was nearby while he was doing _this_.

Just in case it was Braig and this was _entirely_ pointless, Even resolved to punch him in the face… Well, maybe not the face, probably the stomach- wouldn't do to injure his hands just to hurt Braig (this making the wild assumption he'd be able to throw a punch and actually have it make contact.) He simply had to hope that neither would he be called on his flustered state nor Braig involved in any way shape or form.

Reluctantly, Even removed himself from his bed. Sensibly remembering awkward teenage strategies from high school like belt tucks were only effective when wearing a belt. Too late at night and with not enough time to consider anything particularly elaborate, he simply grabbed a tissue from his night-stand to wipe off his slimy palm and pulled on his dressing gown. Holding the robe closed and Even strategically tucked the most obvious sign of his arousal in the rumples of fabric, then went to open the door. Only a crack at first so he could identify the late night visitor.

Ah.

_Yes._

At times Even really wished he had a peephole on the door to his apartment in the castle like he did at his home.

As much as he _wanted_ Ienzo's presence this was hardly the time or place and _certainly_ not the best thing to be doing so long as he intended to remain a law abiding citizen. But he _had_ agreed to let Ienzo stay in the past and he knew perfectly well just why Ienzo sometimes turned up like this.

That knowledge really just made the desire for the child all the more disgusting.

He would need an excuse if he was to send Ienzo away. All this blood allocated to less useful parts wouldn't have been a problem in another situation (aside from the humiliation and inevitable ridicule if discovered.) It was just so easy to go off on a tangent with Ienzo _Right_. _There_. And made concentrating on an exit strategy more difficult than he would like (though maybe this was sort of how it'd feel being a person of average intelligence, apart from the current bodily demands of course.)

Realises he was keeping Ienzo waiting in the hallway (though sense really suggested he leave the child out there) Even gave a curt nod, opening the door the rest of the way to let Ienzo through.

Surreptitiously side stepping away as he closed the door, Even quickly disappeared into his bathroom. Locking the door behind him before collapsing against it.

There was a brief moment considering a cold shower, but the potential for questions shot that down just as quickly as the idea had cropped up. He could tolerate the physical discomfort but not the psychological discomfort from the idea of potentially having to explain it. Taking a deep breath Even slipped his hand down the front of the loose cotton pyjama pants for the second time that night, internally cringing at the slick sound and how it seemed to echo against the tiles.

After cleaning up all traces of his recent ejaculation with a damp wash cloth and splashing his face with cold water, Even readjusted his clothes and returned to bed.

Thankfully Ienzo seemed to have sorted himself out and gone to sleep already.

Physically sated it was easier to ignore the attraction to the child in his bed. Even lay down with his back to the boy anyway, preferring not to risk tempting Murphy's law any more than he was by the simple act of allowing him there in the first place.


End file.
